The Heap Drabbles
by MizukiMai
Summary: A collection of drabbles about various SH characters...Rumors are terrible things. Please R&R!
1. Marcia's Shoes

MARCIA'S POINTY PURPLE PYTHON SHOES

Marcia loved her pointy purple python shoes. They were, really, her pride and joy, apart from her Apprentice. But mostly it was fun to **Watch** Terry Tarsal making them.

Because Terry Tarsal hated pythons, especially the purple kind.

And that just added to the joy of wearing the shoes.


	2. Septimus and Marcia

AGHFORGOTTOPUTUPDISCLAIMER!AAAAAGH!

...Stupid disclaimer. Snorri, you say it.

Snorri: Wha- oh. Um...

Nicko: Don't you push her around!

Me: Fine, fine. Snorri, _prithee thee sayeth the dislaimer-eth?_

Snorri:...What the heck.

Me: Please say the disclaimer.

Snorri: Okay, fine. Mizuki does not own Septimus Heap in any way, shape or form- if she did she would have paired up Jenna and Beetle already.

* * *

SEPTIMUS AND MARCIA

Septimus had moments when he could truly say he hated Marcia.

And he also had ones where he couldn't help but wonder if he didn't have the slightest crush on her.

He liked it when she ruffled his hair, or gave him a day off and sent him away with a sweet that she kept hidden in a tin in her room (because even Marcia needed a sugar fix sometimes).

He mostly liked her when she told him that she couldn't ask for a better Apprentice after he relayed the events of his most recent adventure to her.

Septimus really couldn't imagine having a different mentor.

* * *

How'd ya like it? I thought that this one wasn't really very good compared to a few I'm gonna put up... oh well. Tough luck. Hee hee! Please R&R!


	3. Purple

This chapter is dedicated to The Author, who gave me a very amusing and interesting review. I agree with her on the subject of my chapters being five sentences each, but hey. They'll get longer. If you check out my Bleach fanfiction, you will find that on Word while I was writing them they were over 16 pages. The average chapter is three. I was crazy then; don't blame me. And HECK NO, MIZUKI MAI IS NOT MY REAL NAME!

I have a real thing for delicacy, don't I?

Anyway, no, I am not named Mizuki (with or without the space). For all you people saying "What kinda name is THAT?" It's Japanese. I have a very odd name anyway (my middle name is Grace, and... uh... shall we say I run into glass doors and trip over flat surfaces?).

Onward!

PURPLE

Septimus had long since decided that purple was strictly Marcia's color. Everything about Marcia was purple, from her silk cloak all the way down to her shoes. Septimus was almost positive that the ExtraOrdinary Wizard's eyes had been purple before being exposed to **Magyk** and turning green.

But the deciding factor, the real kicker, came the day that Marcia was giving Septimus a speech about ethics as she made her coffee one morning. She had to make it by hand since all the **Charmed** coffee-making objects had been taken up by a snappish Sarah Heap, who growled that _for once she should be allowed to use the Castle objects and who did Marcia think she was, hogging all the easy-made stuff for herself? She needed to learn the old-fashioned way to do things_ (Sarah had not been at all in a good mood and had smashed her thumb in the coffee press that morning).

Marcia, who was groggy without her coffee and was still trying to decide if the filter went on the inside of the funnel or inside the pot, had paused in her speech. Septimus, just to see how out of it Marcia was, had nodded sagely and said, "Purple."

"Exactly," said Marcia absentmindedly, waving her hand in Septimus's general direction and grimacing as she took a sip of her ill-made coffee.

Since then, Septimus knew that without a doubt purple was, in fact, Marcia's color.


	4. Septimus and Jenna

Thank you for the reviews, everyone!

To The Editor: Yes, I was talking about you- the reviewer. I don't have a real editor. I DID dedicate "Purple" to you. And no, in case you were wondering, I'm not a stalker. Once you get enough reviews, you can make a rough guess by one's writing style whether they're a boy or a girl. (though I did get one review from one of my friends at school in my fic Fire Beats Ice that, if I hadn't known who she was, I would have said that I couldn't tell. I would have simply said that she had major problems.) Also, I'm pretty sure most of is made up of girls. As usual, thank you very much for reviewing. Your reviews are well-written and fun to read!

This chapter is dedicated to Alyxandria, who reviewed AND clicked just about every box on the review thingy. Thanks, Alyxandria!

* * *

SEPTIMUS AND JENNA

Adventures aside, Septimus and Jenna were always asking each other questions— a good portion of them blame-related ones. Like: Jenna, where did you put my **Sugar Charme**? Answer: Sep, I have no idea. I last saw you with it as you went to the Library. I never set hands on it. Or: Septimus, why did you throw away my drawing of the Castle? Answer: I didn't even know you had one, Jen. I never threw it away—and besides, that would explain why you kept looking up at the Castle yesterday while you sat in the grass—weren't you supposed to be doing your history homework?

No, no one could say that their lives were uneventful really. Just that when they weren't doing something amazing and/or heroic and/or remarkable, they were like any other brother and sister, except one was a Princess and one was an ExtraOrdinary Wizard-in-training.

* * *

This one is pretty short and not amazingly written. I'm not really all that happy with it, but I have to post sometime, you know?


	5. Makeup

Hello everyone!

It's been, what, a _year_ since I last updated? I was gonna quit this, but then I realized… someone Story Alerted me a few days ago! I felt so guilty. So… I'm continuing. For that reason, this chapter is dedicated to Bookworms8876.

Yay.

P.S. I don't own Septimus Heap.

* * *

MAKEUP

Jenna was supremely pleased with herself.

She had gone down to the traveling bazaar that came every summer and came back with satchels of makeup. She had rushed up to her room and dumped out the contents of her bag onto her dresser, spilling pinks and greens and blues and purples out onto the shiny oak table, and pulled up a chair.

Then she sat in front of the mirror and carefully, _carefully_ applied blush and eyeliner and lipstick and a multitude of other things that she could stand around all day naming. The end result was a Jenna who was not Jenna at all.

Jenna had put on her nicest going-out dress, smoothed out the wrinkles with purple-lacquered fingernails, and, still pressing out the folds in the fine cotton, had stepped daintily out of her room.

As she walked the path that would take her to Wizard Tower, she could feel peoples' stares following her. Just to see whether they were gazes of disgust or awe, Jenna pretended to trip. With a small "oh!" she fell onto the stone street.

Immediately, she was surrounded by people—mostly male—reaching out hands and concerned words to help her up. Elegantly taking two boys' hands and standing, she flashed her most winning smile, trilled a "thank you so much", and skipped off to the Wizard Tower.

But as Jenna waltzed into the Wizard Tower, she found herself walking straight into someone a bit taller, a bit sturdier. She started to fall backwards from the impact and would have landed hard on her backside if the person didn't quickly grab her arms to steady her. "Whoa there. Watch where you're going, J…"

Septimus Heap trailed off as Jenna looked up. "…Je…Jen."

Jenna gave a small smile. "Yeah?"

"What are you—" he swallowed, trying to keep himself from staring. _This is your sister, Septimus. Not your girlfriend. _"What are you _wearing_?"

"Just a little makeup," Jenna said, and waltzed off again.

* * *

After two days of watching boys flirt shamelessly with his sister, Septimus had to put his foot down.

"Jen, can I talk to you for a second?" he said quietly, tugging at her sleeve and pulling her away from a circle of admirers. She consented, much to the chagrin of the boys she had been talking to. Septimus led Jenna into a quiet room and closed the door. A deep breath, and then: "Jen, this is getting annoying."

"What is getting annoying?" she said, feigning ignorance. Septimus gritted his teeth. "That—that makeup you've been wearing. It's getting on my nerves."

"Why?" said Jenna innocently. It's—"

"—just a little makeup, yes, you told me," said Septimus irritably. "Just a little makeup that's bringing boys to you like flies to honey. I don't like it, Jen. As your brother, I want to see you with a boy who loves you for who you are, not what you look like. Which is why…" he fished around in his memory for a second, picking out a spell he had heard Marcia say on more than one occasion to get her makeup off and directing it toward Jenna.

The second the spell fell from his lips, Jenna gave a cry of protest, but it was too late: the makeup was wiped off of her face like chalk from a blackboard.

"Sep!" she yelled agitatedly. "Why did you do that?"

"I told you already," said Septimus. "I want to see you with a boy who loves you for who you are, not what you look like."

Jenna felt tears well in her eyes. Septimus felt immediately guilty. "Oh no, Jen, don't cry," he said. "I'm sorry." He crossed the room and gave her a hug. "'M sorry, Jen, really I am. I just want the best for you."

"I know," Jenna said, wiping vigorously at her tears and trying to cover them up a bit.

Needless to say, Jenna rarely wore makeup after that.

* * *

I swear, I didn't mean for this to be SepJen, but it's very hard to make stuff like this _not _come across as such. I like Jenna/Beetle and Septimus/Syrah.

Review plz.


	6. Ring

Sorry for the long wait... and the randomness.

No dedications or anything this time. Sorry!

* * *

RING

"Did you hear? The princess is engaged."

"But they didn't announce it yet, did they?"

"'Parently not. But there's a ring on her left hand, all right—you heard it too, didn't you, Cynthiah?"

"Didn't hear it—saw it. Looked like solid gold to me. Great fat sapphire in the middle too."

"And only thirteen years old—must be betrothed or somethin', poor girl."

"Marianna says the ring's from that kid—that Septimus kid. Isn't that incest? Why would they betroth her to her brother?"

"Well, they're not blood-related, and the boy's a seventh son of a seventh son. Marianna says—"

The washroom door banged open and the light chatter of the three maids stopped abruptly. Jenna Heap herself walked into the room, giggling and dragging a sheepish-looking Septimus behind her.

All three maids could see a gold-and-sapphire ring glittering on the middle finger of her left hand. Three sets of eyes grew wide and three women chewed their lips to keep their words at bay until the princess pulled Septimus out through a different door. When the pair was out of the room, the chamber rang with gossip once more.

* * *

"Septimus! Septimus Heap!"

Septimus turned around to see a flustered-looking Marcia Overstrand rushing up the stairs towards him. Her thick curly hair was a tangled mess and her robes were in utter disarray, and there was a vaguely wild look in her eyes that softened into a motherly gaze as she caught up to her apprentice.

"You don't know how long I've been looking for you," she said. Her words came in rushed torrents as she combed through Septimus's hair with shaking hands, jittery with adrenaline from running all morning to find her apprentice. "There are the most terrible rumors floating about the castle and—Septimus, has the word _comb_ ever been introduced to your vocabulary?—oh, it's terrible, _terrible_ news for you, what they're saying—practically the entire city thinks you're engaged to Princess Jenna!"

This made Septimus stop short. "_What_?" he yelped. Marcia nodded and tugged her fingers at a more persistent knot in Septimus's blonde mane. Septimus gave a little protest as she carded through his hair and jerked his head out of her grasp, pressing his fingers gingerly to his sore scalp and leaving Marcia to wring her hands instead.

"They think I'm—they think—repeat that, please?" Septimus said.

"They think you're engaged. To Jenna."

"What would make them think that?"

"Her ring," Marcia said. "The ring you gave her at the fair—you put it on her left hand."

"But it's just brass and blue glass. Costume jewellery. Do they—do they honestly think it's _real_?"

"_Yes_, and now the whole kingdom's waiting for the wedding invitations! Jenna already stopped wearing the ring, but it's a bit late for that."

Septimus sighed. Why was it always him?

* * *

Ultimately, the answer to their problem came in the form of a public notice that went out to the kingdom, something along the lines of: _To disband all rumors, Septimus and Jenna Heap are NOT engaged. There will not be a wedding. Thank you. _Jenna and Septimus were left alone; the kingdom was crestfallen; all was well.

Then again, there was one thing that still needed to be fixed.

"Septimus?" Marcia said one afternoon when they were in her office.

"Yes?" Septimus looked up from the book which he had been reading in peace until this point. He carefully marked his place and placed his book down.

Marcia rummaged around under her desk for a moment, then: "Here." She thrust a wooden instrument at Septimus. Septimus eyed the implement suspiciously.

"It's a comb," Marcia added helpfully.

"Yes, I know," said Septimus, still not taking the comb. "But…what does it do?"

Marcia raised an eyebrow. Had her apprentice lost it? "It's for detangling your hair. It's a modern contraption, see. Invented only about one hundred thousand years ago."

"Very funny," Septimus said. "Seriously, what does it do?"

Marcia stared incredulously at her apprentice. "Septimus Heap! I am giving this to you so you can _brush_ your _hair_ with it!"

Septimus eyed Marcia blankly. "…Oh. I thought it was a **Charm**… or… something."

Marcia buried her head in her hands and gave a long, drawn-out, exasperated sigh, mumbling something about seventh sons of seventh sons and small brains and narrow-mindedness.

There was a short silence.

"Marcia?"

"What is it, Septimus?"

"Er, could you please help me untangle this bit right here?" He was using the comb to work through his hair and had hit a snag.

Marcia gave a small chuckle. "Sure."


End file.
